Friend of a Friend
by Qweb
Summary: When Danny disappears into the clutches of the CIA, Steve needs the help of a friend of a friend to get him free. Tag to Five-0 episode 2.22 and to the Five-0, NCIS: LA crossover.


Aaaahhh, I have another project to finish, but this story won't leave me alone! Like anyone needs another tag to Hawaii Five-0 episode 2.22. But Danny vs. the CIA makes me nervous and, with only one episode left, I doubt the show will deal with it. This is a tag to 2.22 and 2.21 and the NCIS: LA half of the crossover.

**Friend of a Friend**

Steve McGarrett was sorry he was using his cell phone and not a landline because he really wanted to slam the receiver down. Danny was missing, snatched out of Steve's home by the CI freakin' A.

Steve had stopped to pick up a six-pack and some moderately healthy snacks before he and Danny watched the game. The Camaro waited in front of his house, but there was no sign of Danny. Inside, the cartridge for a Taser — government issue — sat neatly, insolently, next to a stack of Danny's badge, wallet, cell phone and gun, with the Camaro's keys perched on top.

Steve had called out Kono and Chin and HPD, but there was no sign of the missing detective. Steve knew — knew! — this was payback by the CIA, but a visit to the local office had disclosed an entirely new staff who, probably truthfully, said they knew nothing about Danny Williams. They didn't need to know, so they didn't. They didn't even know Agent Kendricks, the former agent in charge, but Kendricks had prepared for this snatch carefully.

Steve's contacts in Naval Intelligence were unavailable, Catherine's ship was on maneuvers under radio silence and his former CIA friends were just that, former friends. He was running out of places to call. He clung to the hope that he hadn't just found Danny's body lying in his driveway. Kendricks wanted him alive for some reason, maybe just because it was easier to take alive body somewhere far away than to take a corpse.

Trying to think where to look next, Steve turned on Danny's phone. He stared at the picture of Grace, wondering how he could possibly tell the little girl her father was missing. His fingers tightened and he accidentally touched the phone icon. Recent Contacts came up and Steve saw a name: Hanna.

Steve's breath came faster. This was a number he hadn't thought of, but Danny had needed to be in quick contact with Sam and NCIS for the smallpox case.

Steve touched the button.

* * *

Sam Hanna was in the passenger seat of his partner's car, driving along Sunset Boulevard on their way to Dodger Stadium. A grin lit Sam's face when the caller ID showed up.

"Hey, detective, need more Navy help or did you just miss me?" he said cheerfully.

"Sam, it's Steve. They've taken Danny."

"Steve?" G. Callen looked over sharply at the change in Sam's voice. "Who took him?"

Steve explained.

"He was just trying to investigate the murder of one of their agents," Steve growled. "But when they tried to stonewall him, he wouldn't back down. And when they threatened me, he threatened them back. And now he's gone — out of MY house. And the CIA wanted me to know it. I'm running out of places to look for help."

"Well, you found one here," Sam vowed. He'd liked the short man with the big attitude, and he didn't much care for the CIA. "I'll get back to you," he promised.

"What?" Callen asked.

Sam quickly explained.

"No watching Kershaw pitch tonight," Callen sighed. With a quick glance for any black and whites, he spun his car in a tire-squealing U-turn.

It was Sam's turn to say, "What!"

"For the CIA, we need the big guns," Callen answered, speeding back toward headquarters.

"Ah, Hetty." Sam nodded agreement.

* * *

They caught Hetty Lange still at the office and, when she heard the story, she tsked and picked up her phone, plowing her way through assistants to the head of the CIA. She proceeded to bawl him out like a wayward schoolboy.

"No, don't give me any of that," she said scornfully. "This has nothing to do with national security and everything to do with your agents covering their own asses. Let me tell you, I know where a lot more pungent bodies are buried. Shall we start with a Russian hit squad masquerading as CIA agents in Los Angeles? No, I didn't think you'd want that. I want that detective back with his family today."

She hung up with a foul sounding curse in German, an excellent language to curse in.

"I think I got through to him," she said. "But you never can tell with the CIA. But he knows I'm watching them now."

"Anything more we can do?" Sam asked.

"Wait," Callen sighed. He hated waiting.

But it was less than an hour before Sam's phone rang again.

"Someone dropped him at the hospital," Steve said. "He's been drugged, but it looks like he's OK."

Hetty took Sam's phone. "Look at this as a warning, commander," she said. "Persuade your partner to let it go for his daughter's sake."

"Yes, ma'am. For Grace's sake, maybe he will. Thank you."

* * *

Nell Jones always tried to be inconspicuous when she transferred documents and packages from the overt NCIS office in Seal Beach to their covert office in L.A. But it was hard to be inconspicuous when part of her burden was a huge florists box.

"For me?" Hetty asked, when Nell deposited it on her desk.

Inside were two dozen pink roses and a note, "I'm letting it go," signed DW.

Hetty instructed Nell where to find a vase in the spacious HQ. "It doesn't say 'thank you,'" Marty Deeks commented, looking at the note.

"But it does, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said. "In the language of flowers, pink roses are for appreciation and for thank you."

"You think Danny Williams knows that?" Kensi Blye said skeptically.

"He's a detective," Callen answered.

"That was kind of risky, wasn't it, sticking your neck out with the CIA for someone you didn't even like," Deeks said, fishing as always for more information about how his boss' mind worked.

"Now, Mr. Deeks, I said he was cheeky," Hetty chided. "You, of all people, know I like cheeky, in small doses." She settled the roses in a neat array. "And he does have a certain style."

* * *

"Sam says Hetty liked the flowers," Danny reported to Steve.

"You owe her, pal. She made the CIA back down."

"I don't blame them. She is one scary woman," Danny said. "I'm glad she's a friend." He thought for a moment, then counting on his fingers amended, "Or a friend of a friend of a friend."

"Sometimes that's all you need," Steve said.


End file.
